


Jam

by FullmetalFeminist



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alexander McQueen jumper, I put that gravedigger thing in there just for you ms, Jealous Jim, Jealous John Watson, Jim is a Little Shit, Jim's voice is giving John a migraine - Freeform, M/M, Other, Scones, awkward party conversation, cherry amaretto jam is the best thing ever, christmas crackers, what horrific AU would this ever happen in, you really don't want to know what that gift was
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 15:55:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8851042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FullmetalFeminist/pseuds/FullmetalFeminist
Summary: Spending Christmas with your unrequited love and his new beau sounds like the Special Hell to me. Based on the prompt: I barely know you, but holiday circumstances have forced us to spend a lot of concentrated time together





	

The Christmas party at Baker Street was in full swing. Evergreen garland serpentined red pillar candles on the mantel above a fragrant fire. Fairy lights adorned the mirror and reflected soft light. Laughter of guests and the gentle chatter of conversation filled the air.

"Martha. Did you make buttermilk scones?"

John sat in his chair, nursing rum, whiskey, and a needle sharp pain streaking through his frontal lobe. 

"What else would go with this?" Mrs. Hudson responded.

"You didn't. Did you?" John could hear the metallic sound of a canning jar being opened, heard Jim take a deep breath in. A knife clinking against the glass jar. An audible chomp, the expelling of a sigh that was almost a groan. "That is scrumptious. Sweeter than my own mother, you are."

"Oh, go on," Mrs. Hudson said, fussing over the rest of the party food on the table. 

Jim strolled into the front room, mouth full of scone and cherry jam. He stopped in front of John, swallowed, and asked, "What you drinking there, Johnny?"

The sound of his voice made the searing pain jump. "A gravedigger," he responded.

"Huh," Jim said, though it sounded more like a laugh. "Perfect choice, if you ask me."

John smiled, brittle and sharp. "I didn't."

"Come on now," Jim smiled. "It's Christmas."

John moved to rub his temples, and Jim took the opportunity to take a seat on the arm of John's chair. "Nibble?" he asked, offering his scone. 

"Ah, no," John said. "Can you get off?" 

Jim just kept smiling. "Your loss," he said, although it seemed the subject had changed. "Martha, I swear this cherry jam is the finest yet," he called out.

"It was your idea to add the amaretto," she said as she headed towards Sherlock by the fireplace. "So clever, this one." 

John nodded. The cleverest.

Another party guest arrived. Sherlock glanced over and called out, "Who invited Anderson?"

"I did," John called back. Anderson pulled off his mittens and greeted John with a handshake. "Philip, good of you to come." He promptly headed to the kitchen, lured by the table laden with treats.

"Tch," Jim scolded. "That's a bit petty, John. Inviting his least favorite person."

"Why not? He invited mine."

Jim laughed. "Where's your holiday spirit?"  Turning to the group, he raised his glass. "Sláinte!" 

A round of similar toasts from the others, and John found himself lifting his glass in return, a grim false smile firmly in place.

"To your health," Jim said. John turned back to see his eyes boring into him. Unblinking, Jim raised the glass to his lips and drank, slurping. 

_sluuuuuuuurp_

"Do you mind?" John asked, louder than he intended.

Jim pulled the left side of his lips back, showing a flash of teeth and lifting his eyebrows in a contrite expression. 

"You've been here for the last six days in a row. Don't you have an international crime spree to organise? Hm? Jewelry heist? Assassination?" 

Jim smiled with laughter dancing in his eyes. "You counting?" He sipped his drink. "You'll remember I was fully exonerated." Rising from the arm of John's chair, he gently smoothed the creases from his ivory jumper.

John squinted at the jumper. "What the hell are you wearing?"

"Oh, [this](http://www.alexandermcqueen.com/us/alexandermcqueen/jumper_cod39671032gm.html?device=smartphone&gclid=CI3F_pzH9NACFQOBaQodAe4KpQ&tp=53598)?" Jim said, looking down. "Sherlock likes it. Thinks I look cuddly." 

John kept staring. "Is that a-"

"McQueen! Yeah, good eye, there."

John clenched his jaw. "I was going to say 'skull', but okay." 

Mrs. Hudson was holding a box of crackers out to Sherlock. He tried to back away, but she caught him by the wrist, and placed a cracker in his hand. He gave her a look of resignation, lifted the cracker up and called out, "Who wants to crack... this...thing?"

Jim watched John gaze at Sherlock, eyes soft and lips smiling, genuinely for the first time that evening. He waited until John was about to answer and quickly raised a hand. Sherlock tossed the cracker to him. 

Jim paused, setting his glass down next to John. "You had your chance, Johnny," he said, too softly for anyone else to hear.

John drained his glass and walked to the kitchen, keeping his back to the front room as he refilled it. He tried to block out the shouts as the crackers were popped. 

He felt fingers in his hair as a paper crown was placed on his head. "There you are," Sherlock said. "Can't be the only one not wearing a tissue paper garment."

John chuckled. "Yeah, that would be tragic." Sherlock laughed, adjusting his own paper circlet. His smile faded as he looked into John's eyes.

"Presents! Come along, boys!" Mrs. Hudson called to them. 

They shared a look, and walked back to the others. 

"Me first!" Jim said, reaching for a garish package with a metallic bow. He handed it to John with a subtle lift of one eyebrow. "Just wait 'til you see what's inside."

  

**Author's Note:**

> What is wrong with me
> 
>  
> 
> There's nothing wrong with my beta, though. That sluuuuuuuurp was all her idea. Love you K ❤️


End file.
